


I Contemplated Your Lips, But My Infatuation Was Strange

by exquisiteagony



Series: So That's How it's Going to Be [1]
Category: Frankenstein Drag Queens From Planet 13 (Band), Vampire Love Dolls (Band), Wednesday 13 (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Drag, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Post Show Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Semi-Public Sex, Spit As Lube, humping, public bathrooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26971354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exquisiteagony/pseuds/exquisiteagony
Summary: The Frankenstein Drag Queens are opening for the Vampire Love Dolls, and after the Show, Wednesday gobs off to their vocalist. One day his big mouth will be the death of him, but not today.Or maybe it will be the death of him, but in a completely different way.
Relationships: Joseph Poole | Wednesday 13/Acey Slade
Series: So That's How it's Going to Be [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970494
Kudos: 8





	I Contemplated Your Lips, But My Infatuation Was Strange

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Strangers" by Fizzy Blood.

Every show might be different, but they all had the same element of danger Wednesday loved. He’d nearly poisoned himself several times, there had been sprains and broken bones and horrible bruising from them knocking props onto each other, and Abby was a weirdo fucker with a penchant for violent chaos that could put Zero to shame, so the adrenaline rush they all got was the only natural high they liked.

It had been another one of those shows. Wednesday was aching where Seaweed had pushed a rocking horse on a platform on top of him, but there was beer in his hand and coke up his nose along with god knows what else, and he was running his mouth to the vocalist of the band they’d been opening for - whatever his fucking name was, cuz he had been too high to remember when they were introduced a few hours ago. He was still high enough not to remember now.

Even though the drugs were wearing off.

Whatever.

The other man - J, or Acey, or whatever he called himself - was smirking into his Jack, eyebrows raised and hip quirked, fingers loosely holding his little glass whilst he watched him gob off, eyes slitted in amusement. He took sips whilst watching him, leant back against the wall, his gaze making Wednesday feel strangely hot as he gabbled in the corridor, sipping Jack intermittently.

Wednesday tried not to become transfixed by the other man’s hands, because they were very hot hands belonging to a very hot man but he didn't want to be obvious in his interest, and stuttered and stumbled over his words, hoping his makeup was too thick for him to see his blush as images of what he wished for those hands to do rose in his mind unbidden. He could think on those things later, when he had some privacy, but now was not the time. If he thought about them now he’d probably pitch a fucking tent.

Then Seaweed appeared from nowhere, leaned over his shoulder, and announced to Acey - that was it - over the sound of bass thumping through the walls, probably after hearing what Wednesday just said, that Wednesday was a rude little brat and the best way to deal with him was to p-

Wednesday elbowed Seaweed in the ribs as hard as he could, because Seaweed was terrible, and really hoped Acey couldn’t see how hard he was blushing. He didn’t even know what Seaweed had been thinking of saying, but judging by the knowing smirk on Seaweed’s face, it hadn’t been anything sparing. Wednesday took the opportunity of his bassist bent over and cradling his ribs, wheezing and cackling, to steal his drink from him in revenge.

Seaweed just laughed like that was the wrong thing to do and he was really in for it now, and skirted round to Acey. He mumbled too quietly for Wednesday to hear. Wednesday thought he might be repeating himself, but then Seaweed was whispering for too long, and he was left to just stand and blush in his shapeless pink dress on the muumuu side of ugly whilst he guessed at what was being said, only certain that it was something embarrassing.

Acey barked a laugh in response after Seaweed backed, then gave Wednesday a considering, evaluating look, and Wednesday blushed and knew he would have to kill Seaweed later.

After the bastard bassist left with a sleazy grin, Acey drew close again to Wednesday, his gaze glazed drunk on post-show adrenaline and sleazy as all hell. Wednesday looked up at him - where had he lost his shoes, left standing in striped thigh-highs and a lone sock? - and took a step forward to match him, wondering where this was going.

Acey tilted his head, his smirk simultaneously feline and wolfish, and spoke. Wednesday was too transfixed on his painted lips to hear him through the music thumping through the walls.

“What?” he said, because he felt stupid leaving Acey hanging.

“Your bassist certainly had some _revealing_ things to say about you,” the older man said, in a voice from the dirty streets of New York, and whatever blood had been flowing around Wednesday’s brain promptly flooded south.

“Oh yeah?” he bluffed, pasting on a smirk and tilting his head like he wasn’t as terrified and horny as he felt.

Acey brought his free hand up to trail his index finger down Wednesday’s face, from his cheekbone to his jaw, and then down his neck, pausing right over his skipping pulse before dropping back down, and any parts of Wednesday’s brain that were still functioned promptly shut off. If Acey’s smirk was confident before, it was certain now. “Yeah.” He hummed for a second, his own head tilted the other way now, and every single movement was sending horrible little messages into Wednesday’s underwear, and suddenly Wednesday was the one with his back against a wall. He gulped, eyes transfixed on Acey’s lips now his hands were out of sight. “Like that you’re a mouthy little bitch.”

The words appeared more as the moving lips than a coherent voice, though his face put more meaning into his words than his tone had conveyed, and it took Wednesday a few seconds to collect himself enough to speak. “Oh. Well I’m certainly mouthy.”

“But not a little bitch?” Acey raised one eyebrow, cocky and suave, and Wednesday was cornered like a deer in a trap.

All rational thought was slowly leaking out of his head, and he was pretty much running on horny fumes.

Fuck it. “That’s only for people who need to know.” He raised his eyebrows and cocked his hip, trying for smart, hoping he could sass his way into the older man's pants.

“And how would I be someone who needs to know?” It seemed to be working. Acey took another step, and was right up in Wednesday’s personal space, nearly chest-to-chest with him. All blood was migrating south, and he decided to drunkenly throw caution to the wind, knocking the remainder of Seaweed’s drink back and tossing the plastic cup away from them.

He then stepped forward to close what little distance remained and kissed Acey, reaching up to tangle his fingers in his hair, drawing him even closer. Whatever tiny voice of reason that squeaked that they were in a fucking corridor of a dive bar in North Carolina was silenced by the roar of blood in his ears.

Acey kissed back after making a noise of surprise, pushing him to press right against the wall, one hand bracing on the chipped blue plaster, the other still holding his drink.

He tasted like whiskey, and a tiny part of Wednesday was surprised that he didn’t taste like fancy French cigarettes, because Acey looked like he’d smoke those, but then they were almost grinding against each other, and his brain sputtered to a halt when he discovered how hard he was, his underwear uncomfortably tight and beginning to feel sticky.

He’d feel shame, but Acey’s grinding - nearly equally desperate - proved just how hard he was too.

When Acey pulled back to gasp in a breath, Wednesday’s lipstick was smeared all over the lower part of his face. He wiped his mouth with a shaky breath, eyes glittering with what Wednesday hoped was the same desire he felt, but then a door down the distant end of the corridor opened, and voices could be heard coming their way. Acey took a swig of his drink, and Wednesday examined his nails like he hadn’t just made out with the prettiest man he’d seen in months, and when the couple in the corridor had gone, walking past them with barely a glance, Acey cocked his head with a new smile, one more serpentine than feline.

“I don’t suppose you’d want to take this somewhere a bit more private?” He finished his drink slowly, his head tipping back to reveal his throat, and there was something so cocky about how confident he was that made Wednesday want to mouth off. An image reared its head in his mind’s eye, of Acey pulling him over his lap in return for the lip, and then another one of Acey telling him what other uses he could put his mouth to, and it took all his willpower not to palm himself through his dress.

Acey chuckled at him, and it was only then he realised he’d fucking whined in his frustration, hard enough for it to be clear to the other man through his clothes.

God, where had all his self control gone? He felt like there was fucking lightening running through his veins, like he’d been plugged into a socket and was thrumming with electricity, and he didn’t know if it was the drugs or the drink or just how pent up he was.

“I wonder if we’d need to find somewhere private at all, or if I can simply say things to you and you could get off on that alone. Would be quite a sight, watching you get off on just suggestion,” Acey growled, stepping close again once more. “I wouldn’t even have to touch you, just watch you jerk off whilst I tell you all the things I would like to do with you.”

“But that’s little fun for you,” Wednesday growled back, because he was desperate to feel the other man’s hands on him, and he was sure even the thought of it would pale in comparison to the actual sensation. He palmed himself purposely, biting his lip and catching Acey’s gaze, putting on as much of a display as he could.

Acey hummed, eyes darkening with increasing desire, his grin widening. “True,” he allowed.

Without another word, he grabbed Wednesday’s wrist and tugged, leading him to follow as he searched for an abandoned storeroom. 

Failing to find one, he instead pushed Wednesday into the washroom - the sole backstage washroom in the building - and locked the door behind them, flipping on the light. Wednesday blinked at the ugly fluorescent that bathed the room. He bit his lip to stay a grin, nearly unable to believe his luck.

Acey set his glass down on the sink and then turned to push him roughly against the wall, kissing him again, pressing so flush against him that Wednesday barely had the wriggle room to grind against him as much as Acey was grinding against him, and he moaned into his mouth when he pulled his hair.

“You’re such a slut, aren’t you?” Acey’s grin was wolfishly hungry when he pulled back, and Wednesday couldn’t do much other than nod and whimper.

Acey reached a hand up to fix his hair, smoothing it away from his face. Wednesday openly stared, watching his pale fingers move with surprising elegance and dexterity, and wondered what they’d be like around his cock. Acey caught on, his smile deepening like Wednesday was fucked after a second of confusion. “You like my hands?”

Wednesday nodded again, gulping.

“Your hands are really nice,” he said in a high, whiny voice. Acey chuckled again and cupped Wednesday’s face with one hand, and Wednesday thought his brain was short circuiting so much he might actually experience brain death.

Acey’s thumb brushed over his cheek before sliding down to run over his lips, smearing lipstick to smudge around his mouth. Wednesday moaned again, mumbling little ‘please’s incoherently, not stopping until Acey slipped his thumb into his mouth, and he quietened to whines, sucking and staring into Acey’s eyes. After a few seconds, Acey pulled his thumb out to replace it with his fingers, sliding two into his mouth.

“Didn’t strike me as the type to have a thing for sucking fingers,” Acey remarked, and Wednesday would say something if he didn’t have said digits in his mouth, sucking on them and getting harder and harder by the second. Instead he just whined again, and jerked his hips as much as he could against the pressure of the other man’s body. “God,” Acey cursed, and there was something beautiful about watching him curse when he was dressed in a faux fur coat and a fishnet top and tight leather pants, looking as sleazy as Wednesday’s dreams. “You'd rut against my leg if I told you to, wouldn’t you?”

The question was entirely rhetorical, but also entirely true, and the image that popped up made his cheeks burn, so he nodded. “Well, as hot as that sounds, I’d rather bend you over the sink and make you watch yourself get fucked so hard you moan my name. Would you like that, huh?” He pulled his fingers away, and grinned when Wednesday whined at their absence.

Wednesday nodded, panting, and let out a squeal when Acey spun him around roughly and pushed him against the sink. He scrabbled for purchase on the surface, painted fingernails scratching uselessly against the shiny white, and stared at himself in the mirror whilst Acey ground against him, hard as anything, and unzipped his dress with such urgency he nearly ripped the zipper off.

His lipstick was so smeared he looked like the bratty little bitch Acey said he was, and the rest of his makeup was leaking down his face with sweat. He looked just about as much of a mess as he felt, and he knew that Acey was loving it.

Acey tangled a fist in his hair to press rough kisses down his neck and growl to help him get his dress off, sinking his teeth into his neck hard enough to leave a mark. He hastily jerked into motion to help him, pulling his arms through the sleeves and yanking the dress up over his head and into Acey's care.

Acey hung it up on the hook over the door, taking special care not to drop it onto the floor, and Wednesday closed his eyes and hunched over the sink, grinning to himself whilst he palmed himself, feeling how he’d gotten hard and horny enough to make his underwear sticky.

There was a sudden crack of a hand against his ass and a chuckle when he moaned at the flare of pain, and he shot upright, eyes wide to make contact with Acey in the mirror.

“Look at you,” he crooned, his voice low and husky enough to give Wednesday goosebumps, fingers curving into his mouth again, “so fucking desperate for me.” He snaked a hand down, fingers ghosting over the bulge in Wednesday’s underwear, and he moaned and trembled again, cheeks still red, the feel of Acey’s fingertips brushing over his clothed bulge sending chills running through him. Acey landed another slap to his ass, and then another, until his ass felt as red as his cheeks looked. “Bet you’ve been wanting this all night,” he growled, the final sentence a possessive snarl that made him shudder in anticipation. “It’s made your panties wet. _I've_ made your panties wet.” He snapped the elastic on the word ‘panties’, like he was trying to make Wednesday blush even more.

Look, if one was going to dress in drag, they should go the whole way. Even if no one was going to see it. A pair of his ex’s frilly blue panties paired well with thigh highs and garters, and even if it was just for himself, that was fine.

Also it was hot.

He moaned around Acey’s fingers again, and Acey finally took mercy and reached into his underwear to jerk him a few times, before growling, “If you really want me to fuck you, you gotta earn it,” and Wednesday ripped away without a second thought and knelt on the floor - luckily not yet stained and wet - to fumble around at Acey’s fly whilst Acey dealt with his belt. Once his cock was free, Acey tugged on his hair to hurry him into getting to work.

It wasn’t the first blowjob he’d given, but he was on the wrong side of sober for it to be his best effort, through he tried his best. Acey was already leaking, and what Wednesday lacked in standard he made up for in eagerness, so he pushed down any shame and threw himself into the revels he usually felt at offering BJs.

Because he didn’t mind giving out blowjobs. Actually, he quite liked it, liked having something to suck on in his mouth, but if he said that out loud then Seaweed would laugh at him.

Wednesday then scrunched his face up at that thought, because he didn’t want to think about Seaweed whilst he had a boner and was sucking cock, so he moaned and sucked and threw himself into the task at hand to forget his bassist.

It didn’t take much to make Acey cum. Wednesday kept sucking throughout his orgasm, and then knelt back once Acey tugged his hair to give a smile so innocent it must appear cheeky, hands clasped in his lap like he hadn’t wound up trying to hump Acey’s leg whilst sucking him off and was so hard he thought he might be losing brain cells.

“You really want me, huh?”

“Yeah. Oh god, yeah. Please,” he breathed before he’d realised it, composure rapidly leaving him. Acey smirked; a motion that shouldn’t have made his cock twitch. Acey pulled him up and bent him over the sink again to pull his panties right down so he could step out of them, palming him until he had left a visibly sticky patch before he yanked the blue frills down. Once they had joined his dress on the door, Acey slid two fingers back into the familiar place of Wednesday’s mouth and let him moan and suck.

Wednesday indeed moaned and whined shamelessly around the fingers, getting lost in the sensation, letting Acey pump his fingers in and out slowly, his own hands behind him, bracing himself against the sink and wall. He whined again when Acey withdrew his fingers, but it didn’t take much coaxing for him to turn around and face the mirror to see the pair they made. Acey put his fingers back, and the sight of watching himself suck fingers in the mirror whilst wearing nothing but thigh highs, makeup smeared beyond repair, was a sight Wednesday knew was jerk-off fodder he’d crank it to for months. His cock hurt, but the vision of it twitching and leaking only stoked his lust.

The next time Acey took his spit-covered fingers away it was to prep him for his cock, and Wednesday very nearly short circuited again, because it became apparent that Acey had fingered a dude at least once before.

Which was probably a given, considering how he’d been carrying on since the corridor, but Wednesday was a fucking himbo who didn’t think much, so it was a surprise to him.

Once Acey had prepped him, he pulled on a condom, because neither of them really felt like cleaning up much, and Wednesday couldn’t help but touch himself whilst Acey was rolling the condom down. He sighed in relief when he gripped himself properly after a few seconds of palming himself. He was close enough he might actually have a chance to cum like this, even though he didn’t really want to.

“Hey,” Acey paused to smack his hands away, eyes narrowed in lust and mischief that set his pulse skyrocketing. Wednesday whined, and lasted all of ten seconds before his hands crawled back, only to be pushed away again. “Stop touching yourself. I think I like you desperate for me. I think I want you at _my_ whims.”

Wednesday whined again, because that was all he was really capable of and denial was kinda hot, but then steadied himself, taking a shaky breath as a new thought took hold in his mind. “What would you do if I didn’t stop?” he said, leaning back against the wall, cocking an eyebrow whilst he touched himself again in a display of flagrant disobedience. This time it was more of a display than really an effort to get off, but it had the desired effect all the same.

Acey closed the gap between them and pulled Wednesday’s hand away with a vice-like grip. “I’d make you stop,” he returned, voice so low it was nearly a whisper that went right down to Wednesday’s cock.

“Would you tie my hands up?” Wednesday breathed, leaning his head forwards challengingly, eyebrows raised in defiance’s his cock hadn’t twitched and leaker harder at his own suggestion.

He was just being a brat at this point, and he might as well go the full way. He grinned and cockily and smugly as he could, hand still trapped in Acey’s grip.

“Do you want me to,” Acey breathed back with a grin equally challenging, and the thought of being bent over the sink whilst tied up made his cock twitch. It didn’t escape Acey’s notice, but then again there was little that did. “Take that as a yes.”

“Please?” This time he let the brattiness fall away.

Every time he thought he might be bratty enough to be a handful, Acey managed to counter it, and it was leaving him unsteady in unfamiliar territory in the most thrilling way. He could push and push and push, and Acey wouldn’t give up or leave. He’d push back, curb his behaviour and boss him around, and -

Yeah. This would be a fucking night to remember.

Acey hummed in pleasure, and set about pulling his belt free from his pants after realising there wasn’t really anything else to tie him with.

Once Wednesday was sufficiently tied, wrists lassoed behind his back too tight for him to even try for freedom, Acey bent him over the sink again and eased into him.

Wednesday didn’t think he’d ever moaned so loudly. He closed his eyes, nearly fucking overcome with bliss, but Acey tangled his hand in his hair to yank his head up enough to snarl, “I said I wanted you to watch us,” in his ear. He moaned again and obeyed, and was transfixed by the image they made. Acey still had some modicums of class, makeup mostly intact underneath Wednesday’s lipstick and his coat and mesh shirt combo like some boho rocker who could have a whole crowd in the palm of his hand, pants pushed down only several inches whilst Wednesday looked like a defiled little bitch, makeup smudged and smeared until it was mostly gone and naked but for his garter belt and green and black thigh highs, arms twisted behind his back where he couldn’t see his hands but could still feel the leather.

Acey released his hair to grip his arms instead, using them to stay centred as he pushed into Wednesday at a speed that was fast enough to keep him hard but not enough to cum, and he let every noise filter out between his lips, gasps and moans and whimpers, eyes beginning to cross in the sort of lust that was close to cumming, but far away from it that he whimpered. 

His noises ratcheted up in both volume and pitch when Acey began to jerk him off, slowly at first, but then faster and faster, and the sensations of the other man’s hand on his cock jerking at the same speed he was pumping into him at combined with the sight of them in the mirror, Acey’s mouth ghosting over his neck, proved to be enough for him to cum.

Mumbling and moaning Acey’s name, he rolled his eyes back in his head as he came harder than he could ever remember, vision dimming like he was about to shoot off right up to meet the angels.

Or devils.

Acey didn’t let up, pumping his hand through his orgasm, and he only let go when he was on the raw side of pleasure, beginning to soften. Wednesday whimpered at the loss despite the overstimulation, but Acey hadn’t finished yet, still pounding away, mouth curled in a satisfied grin like he knew how well his game was and loved seeing other's realise it.

It only took another couple of minutes for Wednesday to harden again, and Acey’s hand was back and pumping him, harder and faster than before whilst his mouth fell into an ‘o’, little groans and moans muffling themselves in Wednesday’s neck when Wednesday tipped his head back into Acey. Dropping his eyes to stare at them again, he whined at how debauched he looked.

This time when he came he nearly blacked out. Acey’s name had come from his mouth in a strangled cry, and he was vaguely aware that his orgasm had pushed Acey over, too, his name emerging from Acey’s lips, and it sounded like a prayer.

Acey pulled out slowly, and stripped the condom off to tie and bin it, then set about untying Wednesday.

“Was that a night to remember?” he said, and Wednesday nodded.

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath, stretching his arms and flexing his wrists. “Gonna jerk off to the memory of this until my dick flies off,” he said over his shoulder, retrieving his underwear from the hook and stepping into it.

Acey let out a bark of laughter, proper humour this time, not lust-filled amusement. “I’m certainly not forgetting it in a hurry. So I take it I was good?” He smirked whilst belting himself up again, hazel eyes crinkled with humour.

Wednesday gave him a coy look as he tucked himself away and made sure he was comfy, making sure Acey could see him give him a cocky up-and-down look. “If we had more time and privacy, that’s not the only thing you’d take.”

“Hmm. Yeah. I bet you could give it as well as you take it,” Acey considered with a grin, and Wednesday pulled his dress back on.

“So I’ve been told.”

“How modest of you.” Acey gave his ass another little slap.

“No point being shy about my talents. Hey, can ya help with the zipper?” He turned to let him help.

Acey obliged, and once he stepped back, Wednesday smoothed his dress down and assessed the damage in the mirror.

His makeup couldn’t be fixed.

Oh well. He ripped off a piece of toilet roll to wipe it off. The eyeliner he’d used on his brows transferred to the white, but the green of his eyeshadow simply smudged, and his lipstick was nearly gone anyway, so he shrugged and combed his hair with his fingers.

Once he was done, he turned back to Acey, who was standing by the door, waiting for him.

“Hey. See ya around sometime?” Acey said, serious for a second. Wednesday nodded, and Acey pressed a final kiss to his mouth with a smile before unlocking and opening the door.

The corridor was abandoned, and he slung his arm over Wednesday’s shoulder to walk him to the FDQ’s dressing room like he was walking him home after a date. 

“See ya,” Wednesday said, pausing before he opened the door. Acey gave him a lazy salute and a nod and headed off back to his dressing room, so Wednesday smiled to himself and opened the door and prepared himself for whatever dumbfuckery was occurring within.

**Author's Note:**

> Yo if I missed tagging something let me know so I can tag it? Also I might write a sequel set during the first Murderdolls run if I get the inspo for it.
> 
> Aight peace out XOXO


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